


The Love Campaign

by Aspidities, RaeDMagdon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons, F/F, Fingering, Fluffy, High School AU, Oral Sex, Sex, Sweet, Vanilla, explicit - Freeform, geek clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspidities/pseuds/Aspidities, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Clarke is a Dungeons & Dragons playing, comic book drawing geek. Although she remains popular with her friends, she isn't sure how her crush, jock and honor roll student Lexa, will react to her quirky hobbies... until Lexa starts expressing an interest in getting to know her better.





	The Love Campaign

**Author's Note:**

> Aspidities and I wrote this a while back, but forgot to post it. So, here you go!

“You already used your fifth level spell slot, though.”

“Did _not.”_ Clarke shuffled her character sheets, flipping to the second page in her laminated binder. “Modify Memory is a fourth level spell, so when I made the guard think I was his wife… oh.” She frowned, shoulders slumping. “Oh, crap.”

Octavia smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Told you so.”

“Don’t look so happy,” Raven pointed out. “Now she can’t do Mass Cure Wounds. The dragon’s gonna kill us.”

That sucked the wind from Octavia’s sails. While she brooded, Clarke scanned her other spells, trying to come up with a strategy. _Okay, so I can’t heal my party. Maybe I can make it less likely for them to get hit?_

“I’ll use a second level spell then. I cast Blindness on the dragon. The effect only ends on a constitution saving throw.” She looked at the fourth member of their game, the almighty Dungeon Master Monty. “That okay?”

Monty grinned overtop his screen. “What do I have to beat?”

Clarke checked. “A seventeen.”

“Okay.” Monty rolled the dice. They clattered on the table, and all the players waited breathlessly for the results. “The dragon roars in frustration, spewing fire wildly into the air. He’s blinded.”

“Yes!” Clarke crowed, pumping her fist. “Okay, I’m going to back up forty feet and…” Her voice trailed off as a buzzing sensation under her left leg caught her attention. She pulled out her phone, which she’d been sitting on, and checked the screen. On it was a text from an unknown number. It said: _‘Hey, it’s Lexa. What are you doing this weekend?’_

Clarke’s heart lodged itself somewhere in her throat. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she forgot how to breathe. “Oh. Oh my god.” She had no idea how Lexa — popular jock and honor roll student Lexa — had gotten her number, but she couldn’t say she was displeased. No, definitely not displeased. _Confused, maybe. Nervous. Excited?_

Raven leaned sideways, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. “Who’s texting you?”

Clarke clasped her phone to her chest. “No one.”

“Now I’m _really_ curious.”

“Come on,” Monty said, with a disapproving shake of his head. “Stop being nosey. Clarke’s entitled to some privacy in her life.”

“Hmph.” Raven rolled her eyes. “Like Clarke _has_ a life outside of us.”

“I do so,” Clarke protested, but she couldn’t come up with any examples on the fly. Her mind was still reeling from the thought that Lexa had actually texted her. _What does she want? Is she gonna ask me on a date? Because that text sounds like the precursor to a date… but we barely know each other. We just have English together. And our lockers are only two apart._..

“Drawing art commissions online and spending the money on more comic books doesn’t count as a life,” Raven said, interrupting Clarke’s train of thought.

That comment pulled Clarke back to reality, at least a little bit. “I make more money than you do at Dairy Queen.”

Monty chuckled, while Octavia ‘oohed’.

“I told you,” Raven muttered, “my stupid parents made me get that job.”

“We’ve heard it before,” Octavia said. “Clarke, you’re changing the subject. Who texted you?”

“No one,” Clarke insisted. Three sets of eyes focused on her at the same time. Her face flushed under such intense scrutiny, but she held her ground. “None of your business.”

Her bluster earned her the appreciation of her friends. “Fine, fine,” Raven said. “It’s not like it’s Lexa or anything...”

An awkward pause followed.

“Seriously? It’s _Lexa?!”_

Bard though she was, Clarke didn’t have it in her to construct a suitable lie this time. She gulped, while Octavia’s eyes widened. “So _that’s_ why Lincoln asked for your number the other day! I guess he wanted to pass it along to her.”

“Wait, what?” Clarke’s head spun. This new information only made the text seem bigger, somehow. More significant. It could’ve been a casual question, she supposed — in theory. People inquired about weekends all the time. But it felt like something more.

Raven clutched Clarke’s shoulder, shaking her to drive the point home. “Come on, text her back.”

“Yeah,” Monty said, in a somewhat gentler tone. He offered Clarke an encouraging smile. “You like her, right?”

“I guess…”

She most definitely did like Lexa, and her feelings were no secret from her friends. The older girl had a body that gave Clarke scandalous daydreams in the middle of class, but she was also nice — a rarity among the popular kids. They often made snide remarks about people who were ‘different’: the band geeks, the debate team, entrants in the bi-annual science fair. (Clarke participated in all three activities.)

Mostly, the popular kids disparaged people who cared too much, and didn’t put enough effort into remaining aloof and above it all. Lexa wasn’t like the rest. She took her academics seriously, and on the soccer field, she was the most passionate, driven athlete Clarke had ever seen. Sometimes she even made excuses to drop by the soccer pitch, just so she could catch a glimpse of Lexa lapping the field.

_Mmm. And those running shorts…_

“You guess?” Raven squawked. “Cut the bullshit, Clarke. Your character might be able to lie, but you’re awful at it.”

Clarke looked imploringly at Octavia and Monty, but they nodded in agreement. Seeing she wouldn’t get any support from them, she heaved a sigh and pulled out her phone. As much as she hated to admit it, her friends had a point. It’d be rude not to respond.

“What should I say?”

“That depends on what she said,” Monty said. “Show us.”

“She just asked what I’m doing this weekend…”

Three audible gasps came from around the table.

“She’s gonna ask you out!”

“Clarke, that’s great.”

“Good going, nerd.”

“You think so?” Clarke screwed up her face. “Ugh, this is the _worst.”_

“You mean the best.”

With lightning-fast reflexes, Raven snatched Clarke’s phone out of her hand. “Hmm. Oh yeah, she definitely wants to take you on a date.” She thumbed a reply, while Clarke practically climbed onto her lap in an effort to reclaim her stolen property.

“Raven!”

Raven avoided Clarke’s flailing arms and passed the phone to Octavia, who seized it and continued composing the message. Luckily for Clarke, Monty confiscated the phone before she could send it. “Here,” he said, handing it back. “Just say: _‘Nothing much, you?’_ Girls like it when you ask about stuff they’re doing.”

Relieved to have someone she trusted offering advice, Clarke typed what Monty had said: ‘ _nothing much, probably netflix. you?’_

Three dots appeared almost immediately. Clarke chewed the inside of her cheek, jiggling her knee under the table so hard it shook a few of the dice. Monty reached out and flattened them with his hand to prevent them from rolling over the edge.

The phone buzzed again. _‘New frozen yogurt place opened. Wanna go?’_

Clarke’s tongue turned to cotton in her mouth. While she gaped, Raven and Octavia squealed. Both had left their chairs to stand behind her, peering eagerly over her shoulders.

“That’s definitely a date!” Octavia said.

“Yeah,” Raven agreed. “C’mon, say yes!”

Clarke remained frozen. Stunned. Of course she should say yes. She’d had a crush on Lexa for what felt like forever, but… _We’re really different. And if she finds out I spend most of my weekends playing Dungeons & Dragons and drawings comics, well… she might decide she’s not that into me. _

The decision was taken out of her hands as Raven snatched her phone yet again. Clarke grabbed for it far too late. By the time it was returned, Raven had already texted Lexa back. _‘sure! when and where?’_ with a tongue-sticking-out emoji to cap it off.

Lexa replied almost immediately. _‘Saturday afternoon?’_

“I can’t believe you did that,” Clarke snapped, giving Raven her best glare.

Raven remained completely unrepentant. “You can thank me later. Now, tell her you want to go!”

Numbly, Clarke did so. Even embarrassed as she was, she couldn’t turn down such an opportunity. She might be embarrassed, but she was no coward. _My friends and I are about to kill a dragon. I can spent a few hours with a hot girl eating frozen yogurt… right?_

***

“Whoa, that’s a shit ton of toppings,” Clarke muttered. She stared at the array of candies, nuts, and sprinkles spread out before her, torn between being hungry and overwhelmed. Sure, they looked delicious, and she never turned down a yummy snack, but the sheer number of choices was going to make her decision tough.

 _Good thing I got here early._ She’d debated between arriving early and late, but had eventually decided to beat Lexa there by a few minutes. It would help her feel more prepared if she got familiar with her surroundings before her date showed up.

_My date. Holy fuck, Lexa and I are on a date._

Lexa hadn’t actually used the ‘d’ word via text, but Clarke was fairly certain she’d understood the circumstances. Maybe if they’d been close friends instead of casual acquaintances, going for yogurt alone, just the two of them, wouldn’t have seemed like a date. But they weren’t, and it was, and now here she stood, trying to decide between crushed nuts and gummy bears.

“Still trying to decide?”

Clarke whipped around, nearly bumping into a figure standing behind her. With such an up-close view, she mostly saw a sharp chin and pretty mouth until she took a step back. Only then did she recognize Lexa, by scent as well as sight. _God, she smells good. Is that lavender lotion?_ She didn’t have much time to ponder the question, because Lexa was looking at her expectantly.

“Lexa. Uh, hi.” She forced a grin, hoping she looked like a normal human instead of some kind of embarrassed hyena. “I didn’t notice you were here.”

“Just got here,” Lexa said, offering a small smile of her own. “Anything good?”

She edged past Clarke to check the toppings buffet, while Clarke continued staring. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. Lexa looked so gorgeous with her bronze skin, loose braid, and… _shit, she’s wearing those shorts again. Did she just come from practice?_

“Clarke?”

Clarke shook herself. _Great. Just stare at her ass and don’t say anything. That’s a great way to impress a girl._

“Sorry, I didn’t eat breakfast. I’m kinda zoning.”

“Then go get some yogurt,” Lexa said, with almost offended concern.

Clarke took a deep breath. _Maybe a few feet of distance is good… just until I get ahold of myself._ She approached the giant yogurt machine and grabbed a large cup, considering her options. Her finger hovered over several buttons before she finally made her decision: cookie dough. She poured a considerable amount in her cup before returning to the buffet and scattering a bit of everything on top, heavy on the candy.

“I see you got over the decision hump.”

Lexa returned, carrying a small cup of chocolate with a few sprinkles and gummies mixed in. Clarke eyed her date’s choice, then her own, feeling her face flush. “Um, yeah.”

Luckily, Lexa didn’t seem to pick up on her embarrassment. “Come on,” she said, nodding Clarke toward one of the empty window booths. Her friendly smile eased some of Clarke’s doubts. They went over together, sitting across from each other.

“Oh, shit,” Clarke mumbled as soon as she sat down. “I forgot—”

Lexa produced two pink plastic spoons, offering one to Clarke. “Here.”

Sheepishly, Clarke took one. “Thanks.” She ate a few bites of yogurt, trying to distract herself from the awkward silence with a sugar rush. “So, um. I was surprised when you texted me.”

Lexa’s brows lifted. “Oh?”

“I mean, I’m glad you did. Just wasn’t expecting it.”

A smile spread across Lexa’s face. “Why not?”

“No reason. My friends and I were playing D—” She stopped herself just in time. “Uh, playing… Call of Duty?” _That’s a less-nerdy game, right?_

Lexa tilted her head. “Wow. That’s kind of…violent. I can’t get into those shooting games, myself.”

 _Shit. Shitshitshit._ “Uhm, yeah, well it’s Raven’s game… so…” Clarke trailed off awkwardly, and dug her spoon into the monster she had created, spearing a maraschino cherry in half. _Why did I lie? Now I’ll have to tell Raven to pretend she plays COD._

“Raven Reyes?” Lexa leaned forward. “I’ve seen you guys hang out.”

Clarke’s chest tightened. _Seen me. She’s seen me. When has she seen me that I didn’t notice?_ “She’s my best friend. Uhm. How’s...ah...soccer?”

“Season’s over.” Lexa said. Her usual, unflappable calm was almost unnerving. “It’s about to be basketball tryouts. I may go for it: Anya’s always telling me it’s good to keep busy in the off-season.” Her gaze seemed laser-focused, and Clarke was sweating. “What do you do? For fun, I mean.”

“I draw,” Clarke responded automatically, and then cursed herself for the slip.

Sure enough, the follow-up question was immediate and inevitable: “Oh really? Like, what kinds of stuff?”

“Landscapes,” Clarke mumbled. “Uh. And um. Like, pets and stuff.” She blushed. _Dear Lord, please never let her find my Tumblr._

“Really? I’d love to see your work.” Lexa was so honest, so simple and kind in her response, that Clarke melted faster than the whipped cream teetering from her yogurt. But the internal kicking did not stop.

_Now you’ve really done it._

“Well, I’d like to see you play sometime,” Clarke tried for smooth, and found it was easier than lying. Surprisingly, a lot easier.

Lexa smiled, and it set Clarke’s pulse thumping again. “You may have to wait until spring.”

“Are you implying this date’s gonna last four months, Lexa Woods?” Clarke was genuinely pleased to feel that the smile tugging at her lips was playful and flirtatious. “Because a woman cannot subsist on yogurt alone.” Maybe she wasn’t so far-removed from her level 15 bard, after all.

Lexa ducked her head, almost bashfully, and that was the start of it.

***

About two weeks later, at the Cineplex, a small die-cast figurine of Raven’s thief character rolled out of Clarke’s pocket. Lexa frowned in confusion, picking it up off the popcorn-smattered floor. “What’s this?”

“It’s for a diorama,” Clarke hurried to explain, stuffing the figure back into her pocket. “Uh… for medieval literature. We have to… um… do a presentation on how a town would look in the Middle Ages with… you know, people and stuff.” She flailed for a distraction. “Hey, would you mind if we sit further back?”

“Not at all.” Lexa gave her a strange look, but acquiesced easily enough. It was only about mid way through the credits when she leaned over, almost-too-casually. “Interesting how much that little figurine looked like Raven. I bet she’d like that model when you’re done with it.”

Clarke’s smile was forced. “Yeah, I’ll give it to her.”

She shoveled a handful of popcorn into her mouth and sat there, feeling miserably stupid, through the opening scene. _She’s gonna figure out I’m a loser sooner or later. She’ll probably dump me right away._ The dismal tone of her thoughts took her out of the movie, and she slumped in her seat.

Lexa’s hand moved to her thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, and suddenly, Clarke was alert again. “Hey, are you okay, Clarke? Because we can leave, if you’re not into this.” She leaned in close, her breath skating over Clarke’s ear so as not to be heard. Electricity crackled wherever the hot, damp words landed.

“I’m fine.” Clarke whispered, and looked up into Lexa’s dark green eyes. “Just a little lost in thought.”

“Did you find anything good?” Lexa murmured, and her lips were so, so close. Her lashes swept her cheeks, and Clarke could see a freckle beside her ear. Everything in her body felt tight and hot.

“Can I kiss you?”

Lexa answered with her lips rather than her words. Their mouths brushed, and Clarke moaned at the softness. A wet, darting tongue, bubblegum and popcorn-flavored, slid into her mouth, and she tangled her hands in Lexa’s hair, dragging her back in for more.

The reality of kissing Lexa was so much better than the fantasy, and that was saying something. Clarke had spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering what it would be like. How Lexa would smell up close. How she would taste. The answers to those questions were dizzying, delightful. She quickly lost control of herself, leaning over the armrest between their seats to get closer.  
  
Only when Lexa broke away and started giggling — under her breath so as not to disturb the patrons in front of them — did Clarke realize she’d almost crawled into Lexa’s lap, and probably would have if not for the barrier between them. One of her hands rested on Lexa’s side, just above her hip, in a position where it looked like she might slide it under Lexa’s tank top at any moment.   
  
Clarke drew back, averting her eyes and clearing her throat with a cough. “Sorry. This probably wasn’t the right place for—”   
  
Lexa kissed her again, pushing forward with her own tongue this time. Clarke whimpered as it entered her mouth, and when Lexa’s hand rose to cup her cheek, she nuzzled into the caress like a cat, embarrassingly thirsty for every scrap of attention her crush had to give.   
  
_My crush… since we’re kissing, does that make her my girlfriend?_ Clarke had navigated crushes before, and had dated a few of her classmates casually, but this was the first time she’d been so invested in… well, she wasn’t sure what this was, exactly, but she was desperate to find out.   
  
Since Lexa was currently sucking Clarke’s bottom lip and sighing into her mouth, she obviously returned the interest. Her fingers curled around the back of Clarke’s neck, not forcing, but supporting, and Clarke melted into a puddle in her seat. She didn’t care if they missed the whole movie. This was so much better.

***

Clarke poked her tongue through the side of her mouth, eyes narrowed in concentration as her stylus flew across her tablet. Although she was trying her best to focus, it was increasingly difficult to keep her eyes away from the clock in the corner of her computer screen. Normally, it wasn’t visible while she worked, but Lexa was due to show up in fifteen minutes. She wanted to finish the lineart she was working on before then, if at all possible.  
  
With a sigh, she paused to examine her progress. Her Batwoman drawing looked good. Really good. She’d been on an upswing lately, and it felt good to take pride in her results instead of struggling through art block. The only thing she wasn’t quite satisfied with was the face. She was using the J.H. Williams III redesign as a reference, but in spite of that, something about her own work felt… off.   
  
She leaned closer, then laughed when she saw it. Subconsciously, she’d been using Lexa as a reference. That explained the shape she’d picked for Kate Kane’s jaw, and the bow of her mouth. The cowl hid the upper half of her face, but Clarke suspected if she hadn’t drawn it, she’d see hints of Lexa there too.   
  
Deciding she was better off ending things early, she stretched out her forearms, bending her fingers back and rolling her wrists… until the doorbell rang. She jumped out of her seat, a grin already plastered on her face. _Lexa’s here early!_ She forced herself not to bound down the stairs and race to the door, reluctant to appear flushed and out of breath when she opened it. _I gotta make her work for that a little more._

Her efforts to appear calm and collected flew right out the window when she saw Lexa standing there on the front porch. She stood there with a sweet, genuine smile, hair pulled back in a ponytail, holding a pack of Clarke’s favorite brand of gummy bears up in offering. Clarke’s heart sprouted wings and did somersaults in her chest.

“Are those for me?”

“You bet.” Lexa handed them over, leaning in to give Clarke a kiss on the cheek at the same time. “I had to stop for gas on the way here, so…”

Clarke tilted her face until their mouths found each other for a proper kiss. It wasn’t full of tongue, but it did last a long time, and she’d reached a state of dreamy peace by the time it ended. “You’re the best.”

Lexa winked. “I know. Are you ready to go, or do you need a minute?”

“Yeah, I’m ready — oh, wait. My phone. It’s upstairs.”

Clarke was about halfway up the stairs when she realized Lexa was following behind. She stopped short. “Uh, you’re coming too?”

“I just realized I’ve never seen your room,” Lexa said, with a sly smile. “I promise not to try anything.”

Panic rushed in, gluing Clarke’s feet to the stairs. A bead of sweat ran down her brow as her mind went through a split-second inventory: the comics and D&D manuals on her bookshelf, the row of Marvel figures, the Doctor Who alarm clock, and, of course, her pile of stuffed animals, featuring Pikachu. She was also about 90% sure her Sailor Moon costume was hanging on the back of the door, too. Not to mention her computer, still broadly proclaiming her dorkiness with a full-blown portrait of Lexa as Batwoman…

“ _No_!” she squeaked. “Ah, um, I mean, not right now. Super messy. Gross in there. Really.” She made a desperate shooing motion with her hands. “You wait downstairs, I’ll be right back.”

Lexa arched a patient brow. “Okay, but—“

“Right back!” Clarke yelped, bounding up the last steps. She felt Lexa’s confused eyes on her the whole time, but thankfully, she didn’t say anything else.

A few minutes later, in Lexa’s car — a modest, forest green Toyota Tacoma — Clarke managed to bring the conversation around to more mundane topics. That had been a close one. Too close. She would have to come clean soon, or buy a new bedroom from IKEA to keep this illusion up. Although, looking at Lexa’s lean fingers drumming on the wheel in time with Florence and the Machine, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by not inviting her would-be girlfriend in…

Clarke shook away that train of thought. Biting the head off a red gummy bear, she offered Lexa the bag. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“You’ll see.” Lexa shot her a lopsided grin, the one that never failed to make Clarke’s knees all wobbly. “It’s my favorite spot.”

After a twenty minute drive, Lexa pulled off the road onto a bumpy track, hardly more than a logger’s trail. They jounced and shook through the muddy ruts in what barely passed for a road, before Lexa brought them to a shuddering stop at a small turnout. Hand on her keys, she gave Clarke an apologetic shrug. “There’s a little bit of a walk from here, but it’s worth it, I promise.”

“Let’s do it,” Clarke responded with more enthusiasm than she felt. She was wearing her old, busted-out sneakers, and the path looked awfully mucky. Still, when Lexa smiled at her with that sweet, meltingly-soft expression, her heart pounded. _I’d follow you anywhere._

The walk was more of a hike, it turned out, and Clarke’s shoes were soggy beyond repair by the end of it. They made damp squelching noises on the leaves as she followed Lexa into a wide clearing overlooking a cliff. She nearly bumped into Lexa’s lovely backside — too much staring — but then Lexa took her by the hand, and Clarke saw what all the fuss was about.

“God, Lex. It’s beautiful.”

A valley stretched out below them, painted in the reds and yellows of fall, interspersed with pockets of deep evergreens. Their little town was perched in the center, like a charming display in a holiday store, and the streetlights were just beginning to turn on. The warm glow reminded Clarke of tiny fireflies as the sun melted into purple and orange streaks behind the houses.

Clarke had never seen her home look so picturesque. It was like seeing it for the first time. She squeezed Lexa’s hand tightly, overcome with emotion.

Lexa unlaced their fingers after that, but only to drape a warm arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “This is my secret spot, and I kind of didn’t want to share it, you know? I liked having something all to myself, in a way. I’ve never brought anyone here, but...” She turned so they were facing each other, cupping Clarke’s chin with her other hand. “I wanted to share it with you.”

A tight ball lodged itself in Clarke’s throat. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. In the end, she did neither. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she blurted out, before she could stop herself. Her mouth fell open in surprise as soon as she heard her own voice. The question had bubbled up inside her entirely without her permission.

For a split second, Clarke reeled with panic — until she realized Lexa was beaming at her. The view below might have been lovely, but Lexa’s face put it all to shame. “I was hoping we already were,” Lexa said. “But I guess it’s good to ask. Will you be _my_ girlfriend?”

Clarke threw her arms around Lexa’s neck, claiming her lips in a hot, passionate kiss. In her enthusiasm, she almost made Lexa stumble, but they managed to brace themselves against a nearby tree trunk. Clarke knew she should probably let up — give Lexa a chance to grab a few breaths, at least — but she couldn’t help herself. She was addicted to Lexa’s mouth, and for some reason, knowing that Lexa was her _girlfriend_ now made the kiss taste twice as good.

***

“Clarke? You awake?”

Clarke blinked, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and yawning wide enough to crack the joints in her jaw. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep on the couch during Great British Bake-off, but… well, Lexa’s arms were cozy, and the music and the voices on the television were so soothing. Plus, she’d stayed at Raven’s until 1 AM the night before.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, propping herself into a sitting position. As much as she loved cuddling with her _girlfriend_ — almost a month later, she still couldn’t believe she and Lexa were together — two warm bodies under one thick blanket was a bit too much heat to handle. “I was over at Raven’s pretty late last night.”

Lexa arched a brow. “Oh? What were you two doing?”

The question was curious rather than accusatory, but Clarke felt defensive anyway. “Nothing,” she said, trying her best to sound casual. “Just hanging out. Octavia and Monty were there too.”

“You hang out with them a lot,” Lexa mused, her brow knitting in thought.

“They’re my friends.”

“Oh, I know. I’m happy you’re friends with them. I guess I’m just wondering why we haven’t all hung out together yet.” She gave a sheepish smile. “It’d be nice to get to know your friends better.”

Clarke swallowed. Lexa’s request was perfectly reasonable. She couldn’t think of any reason to say no. And yet… _If she hangs out with them outside of school, she’ll figure out what a geek I am in two seconds flat._ “Um, I’ll ask them when they’re free,” she said in a non-committal mumble, hoping that would be enough to defuse the situation.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” The wrinkle in Lexa’s brow deepend, and her beautiful green eyes shone with an emotion Clarke had rarely seen in them before: disappointment. “Is it something I’ve said or done?”

That one look was more than Clarke could stand. It cut straight to her heart, and the thought that Lexa was blaming herself only made it worse. _Come on, Griffin. It’s not a big deal. Geek stuff is so mainstream these days. Just because Lexa’s a gorgeous, smart, perfect athlete doesn’t mean she’ll dump you for something so banal._

 _But what if she does?_ a self-sabotaging voice whispered in the back of Clarke’s mind.

_You can’t keep letting her think it’s your fault. Come on. Look at how sad she is._

Clarke groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” Lexa asked, immediately all concern.

That was the last straw. “It’s not you,” Clarke mumbled, forcing herself to uncover her face and meet Lexa’s eyes. It was the least she could do. “It’s me. I’m… well, my friends and I…”

“I just want to meet your friends, Clarke. I don’t have to hang out with you guys every time if you don’t want me to, like when you’re busy running your campaign or whatever.”

Clarke did a double take. _Wait, what the fuck? My_ campaign? _Did I hear that right?_ “You knew?” she stammered, in total disbelief.

Lexa stared in confusion. “Was I not supposed to? Lincoln told me. You and Octavia and the others play every weekend, right?”

“But… but…”

“And you had that set of little figurines? And the book I saw in your bag?” Lexa tilted her head to the side. “Am I reading this wrong? Do you not play D&D?”

Clarke groaned and threw an arm over her eyes. “I was trying so hard not to show it!”

Lexa peeled her arm away from her face and held Clarke’s hand, tightly. “Why, though?”

Clarke swallowed. “Because… maybe you wouldn’t want to be with me if you knew how much of a dork I was.”

“Clarke?” Lexa took her hand, threading their fingers together. She lifted Clarke’s knuckles to her mouth and laid a simple kiss on them. “I know exactly how much of a dork you are, and it just makes me want you more.” Her eyes turned dark and her breath skated hot over Clarke’s trembling fingers. “And I want you _really_ bad already.”

 _Oh shit._ “Really?” She wet her lips. Heart banging in her chest, she took a quick mental inventory of the situation. No one was home or likely to be home for hours, and Lexa was looking at her like _that. “_ What… ah… did you wanna do about that?”

“This.” Lexa dropped Clarke’s hand in order to curl it around the nape of her neck, and crushed their mouths together.

The kiss wasn’t soft and exploratory, like the others they’d shared. This was _hard_. Lexa’s tongue was sweeping into her mouth, drawing her own out to duel, and her hand on the back of Clarke’s neck was raising every little hair to the touch. Her other hand wasn’t absent, either, skating around the edge of Clarke’s shirt. Lexa’s knuckles whispered against her bare skin, and they both shivered.

“Take me upstairs,” Lexa breathed against Clarke’s lips. “I want to show you how much I’ve been wanting you.”

Clarke shuddered. Her nerves had become something else entirely — all that energy had to go _somewhere_ , and it had decided to travel between her legs. In the end, it made the decision for her. She took Lexa by the hand and led her from the couch, heading toward her bedroom. Every stair was an opportunity to turn back, but she didn’t. She felt strangely serene about the whole thing…

Until she opened the door. Upon entering the room, Lexa gasped, and her eyes went wide.

Clarke’s stomach flipped as Lexa swept her gaze all around, taking everything in: the posters, the stuffed animals, the figures. Clarke’s drawing of Batwoman was finished and printed on her desk, and Lexa’s eyes landed on that, too. She gulped, knowing Lexa couldn’t help but see the similarity.

“Did you draw that?” Lexa asked, her voice so low Clarke almost didn’t hear her.

“Yeah, I… uh… I like comics.” She thrust a hand awkwardly into her hair. _Oh god, I hope this wasn’t a mistake._

Lexa took a step closer. “Is that… me?”

“Yes.” Clarke averted her eyes. “I know that’s super dorky, but I—”

A choked, starved-sounding groan cut her off. Lexa’s eyes were half-lidded and she was almost trembling. She curled her hands around Clarke’s arms, digging her fingers in with a possessive firmness. “That is so incredibly hot. And you don’t even know.”

“Lex?” Clarke said, her words almost a whimper. “Kiss me.”

Lexa did. The authoritative firmness was back, and with it came a sweeping wave of arousal. Clarke moaned, no longer the least bit ashamed, as Lexa’s mouth dropped from her lips to her pulse point, sucking the tender flesh there. There would be a bruise later, but that didn’t matter. Lexa’s lips felt _so good._

Before she realized what she was doing, Clarke started backing Lexa toward the bed. Lexa sat as soon as the backs of her legs hit the duvet, letting Clarke climb into her lap. Their kiss deepened through all of it, and before long, Clarke was rocking her hips, aimless in her lust.

Lexa broke away to gasp as Clarke’s thigh hitched between hers. The sound was incendiary. It burned through Clarke’s bones, and she needed more, right away. “Fuck,” she panted, unsure where to start. Lexa sat beneath her, patient but eager, and the sheer volume of choices made Clarke’s head spin.

Luckily, Lexa seemed to have an idea. She slid her hand beneath Clarke’s shirt and up along her spine, spreading it across the overheated skin there. Clarke trembled at the touch. She had Lexa had fooled around a little, but this felt different. It wasn’t playful and exploratory. It was _passionate,_ like it was going somewhere serious.

 _Kind of like we are,_ Clarke thought — and a grin spread across her face.

Lexa smiled up at her. “So… shirts off?”

Clarke was grateful for a suggestion to act upon. She took the lead again, peeling her shirt over her head. Next came Lexa’s shirt, and despite Clarke’s attempts at ‘helping’, it took longer. She couldn’t seem to tear herself away from Lexa’s neck. It was practically begging to be kissed, and she didn’t want to stop.

Finally, they managed to undress each other from the waist up. Lexa’s sports bra wasn’t much of a challenge, and Lexa managed to unfasten the hooks on Clarke’s without too much trouble. Afterward, they paused, staring at each other in electrified silence.

A sharp pang of want pierced Clarke’s core. Lexa’s breasts were absolutely beautiful: smallish but firm, softly rounded with dusky brown peaks that were already hard. They made her mouth water, but her hands got there first, cupping them as Lexa arched to encourage her.

“God, you’re sexy,” Clarke muttered. It was the truth. She’d stared at Lexa’s breasts many times — even before they’d started dating, which was a little awkward — but _holding_ them was entirely different. She hadn’t known they’d be so soft and warm and squeezable, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated the happy sighs Lexa gave when she played with them.

Those sighs became outright moans as she toyed with Lexa’s nipples, giving both a gentle roll between her fingers. Lexa’s hips rocked up toward hers, and Clarke chewed her lip, frustrated. She kind of wished they’d gotten around to taking off their pants too, before getting carried away again.

“My turn,” Lexa said, sliding her hand along Clarke’s arm. The brief touch disrupted Clarke’s flow, and she let go of Lexa’s left breast, bracing her hand on the mattress as Lexa ducked beneath her, wiggling down until her face was positioned near Clarke’s chest. It was a good thing she was supporting herself, because her body shook with surprised pleasure as Lexa’s warm mouth latched onto her nipple.

Clarke’s lashes fluttered. As beautiful as the sight of Lexa’s face buried in her tits was, she couldn’t focus. The wet, silky heat around her sensitive nipple was too intense. It wasn’t an entirely new sensation — she’d hooked up with a few other people — but somehow, Lexa’s attentions felt ten times better, for reasons Clarke was too fuzzy-headed to parse out.

Lexa groaned around her nipple, teasing it with ticklish vibrations, and Clarke’s inner walls twitched. If this kept up, she might come before they got their underwear off. Her panties were already soaked through, clinging between her swollen lips and molding to their shape. “Not fair,” she muttered as Lexa kissed her other breast, sucking that one as well. “How do you _do_ that?”

“Mm.” Lexa released her nipple with a slick pop, causing it to strain against the cool air. “Dunno, but I’ve _wanted_ to for like a year.”

The statement sent Clarke reeling. Any other time, she would’ve followed up on that revelation, but then Lexa’s hand slid down her stomach, caressing its curve before tugging inquisitively at the waistband of her leggings. Clarke fought the impulse to jerk her hips. Instead, she spread her legs and whimpered, hoping Lexa would get the message.

She did. Lexa’s exploratory hand became confident, and a second hand joined it, pulling Clarke’s leggings down with a quick jerk. Clarke kicked them the rest of the way off, wiggling, and Lexa helped pull the stubborn fabric from one hold-out ankle. Her breath whispered against Clarke’s neck, and she placed a kiss there, just beneath the curve of her jaw.

“God, Clarke. You’re so beautiful.” Lexa’s voice cracked with appreciation and wonderment in equal shades. Her fingers traced lingering paths, bypassing the faint stubble on Clarke’s legs — she’d neglected to shave, but in all fairness, she hadn’t known _this_ was going to happen — as her lips worked along Clarke’s throat.

The kiss there became a brand: a burning hickey that left Clarke gasping. Lexa was so close to her panties that Clarke felt like she’d melt right out of them. Lexa could probably _smell_ her, too, and that thought was far more arousing than anything had a right to be. She rocked her hips a little, and Lexa’s fingers teased with the edge of her underwear, wrenching a moan from both of them.

“Lex,” she breathed, on the edge of a whine. “C’mon, _please_.”

“Say it again?” Lexa asked, almost pleading herself.

Clarke couldn’t refuse. “Fuck me,” she begged. “Please, fuck me.”

Lexa’s fingers curled under the waistband of her panties and pulled down. Clarke assisted, shimmying out of them and settling back on Lexa’s lap. Lexa’s hands returned to her thighs, fingers ghosting near her swollen lips. “Beautiful.” She split Clarke between her fingers, watching Clarke’s eyes the whole time, as though testing for new information. When she found Clarke’s clit, she circled lightly, rolling it through its hood and teasing the bud to life.

Clarke shook and sighed in Lexa’s lap. The first of those long, beautifully strong fingers slipped inside of her after what felt like an hour of teasing. It was an easy glide, but she still moaned throatily through the first stroke, and couldn’t stop the helpless sounds that issued forth from then on. She rose to her knees, moving up and down in time with Lexa’s steady, determined thrusts.

Before long, the first finger was joined by a second. The new stretch burned, but in the best possible way. “God, you feel so good,” Clarke mumbled, throwing her arms around Lexa’s neck. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Lexa agreed. She hooked her fingers into a swollen spot along Clarke’s front wall, thrusting into it deliberately.

“ _Fuck_!” Clarke tightened her grip on Lexa’s shoulders. She dug her nails in, too far gone to care about any discomfort she might cause. Pressure pounded in her belly, building like a typhoon out at sea, as she raced toward an inevitable crashing peak.

The wet, smacking sound of Lexa’s hand filled the room, but Clarke was too overwhelmed to be embarrassed. She rested her forehead against Lexa’s, panting, as they both stared down at Lexa’s pthrusting wrist, pumping three fingers — _shit, when did she add a third?_ — in and out. Clarke saw herself stretched around Lexa’s knuckles, and had a fleeting idea — _I want her whole hand in me_ — but decided to save it. She would sore enough tomorrow as it was.

Lexa’s eyes narrowed to slits as she plunged into Clarke, driving into her as hard as possible from below. The cords of her wrist strained visibly with effort, and sweat beaded along her brow, but there was no way she seemed ready to stop. If anything, she looked like she could continue all night without tiring, and that thought alone was almost enough to send Clarke over the edge.

In the end, it was the heel of Lexa’s hand that did it. Lexa changed her angle, making sure it rubbed directly over Clarke’s clit, and the broad pressure forced a scream from Clarke’s throat. She shuddered, then came, spilling everything she had into Lexa’s palm while her inner walls went wild.

The pulses started out strong, but grew in intensity, rippling faster as Lexa’s fingers continued curling. Clarke was helpless to resist them. She clutched desperately at Lexa’s shoulders, needing to ground herself. It felt like she was flying, or falling, or both — but without her hold, and without the steadying hand Lexa placed at the base of her spine, she was certain she would’ve collapsed into a quivering puddle.

By the time the dizzying waves receded, Clarke was a dazed mess. She stared down at Lexa’s face, which was oddly blurry thanks to her watery eyes, and managed a weak smile. It was all she had the energy for. To her great relief, Lexa helped her lie down. She withdrew her fingers from Clarke’s core and lowered her onto the mattress, and Clarke sighed as she waited for the world to stop spinning.

“Clarke, are you okay?”

“Mm.” She had to swallow several times before she could answer. “Okay? I’m _fantastic_.”

Lexa beamed. “Really? So, I did okay?”

Clarke snorted. “Seriously? You did amazing. Where did you learn that?”

“Uh… I’ve only had one girlfriend. Costia. It didn’t work out, but we’re still friends. She lives on the west coast.”

That was new information, but Clarke couldn’t summon even a shred of jealousy. After getting fucked like that, and after Lexa had been so incredibly sweet and accepting, she had no doubts whatsoever about their relationship. “Well, I’ll have to thank her someday for teaching you how to do that…”

Lexa laughed. “Please, don’t.”

An adorable pink blush crawled across her cheeks, and Clarke felt something stir in her belly: not the desire to come again — not yet, anyway — but to return the favor. No way could she let Lexa go unsatisfied after such an incredible performance.

“So… you’re probably still horny, right?”

Lexa swallowed. “Um, yeah.”

Clarke summoned her strength and rolled Lexa over, pleased to find she’d regained some of her former coordination. “You want me to do something about that, baby?”

Lexa nodded, spreading her legs so Clarke could settle between them. “Please?”

That was all Clarke needed to hear. She placed a short, searing kiss on Lexa’s slack lips, devouring them for a few hot seconds before beginning her descent. She spent a little more time at Lexa’s breasts, making sure to suck both nipples to hardness and tug them ever so gently with her teeth. Lexa’s reaction was beautiful. She gasped and arched, threading her fingers through Clarke’s hair and pushing hopefully. Clarke hadn’t even known it was possible to push someone’s head down in such a gentle way.

She gave Lexa what she wanted, licking a trail down her abdomen, admiring the stunning musculature there. All those hours on the soccer pitch had really paid off, and Clarke lingered longer than she’d meant to, enjoying the cut of Lexa’s muscles, the soft layer of fat that covered an incredibly strong core. More dirty thoughts filled her head: questions about how well Lexa might use a strap-on, with muscles like that.

“Clarke,” Lexa groaned, giving her head another mild push. “Please. I’m dying here.”

Clarke continued on, pulling Lexa’s pants and underwear down together. The sight beneath stunned her for a few moments, even though she’d been expecting it. Lexa’s lips were swollen and shiny, practically begging for a mouth. There was a trimmed triangle of dark pubic hair above, and Clarke wasted no time burying her nose there, inhaling deeply. Lexa smelled dark and warm, and Clarke couldn’t help but swirl her tongue inside for a taste.

“Fuck,” Lexa breathed, and Clarke smiled into her. She loved hearing Lexa swear; it didn’t happen often. She pushed Lexa’s crumpled jeans down the rest of the way, and nudged her knees open wider.

Clarke burrowed in, nose edging Lexa’s labia apart. Her tongue took broad, flat strokes at first, but soon she zeroed in, arrowing the tip in fast, flickering circles around her girlfriend’s clit. Lexa’s fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her closer, and the more Clarke’s tongue circled, the louder her groans became.

She rolled and flexed, seeking to tease Lexa’s puffy clit out from its hood, and when she succeeded, Clarke gave a happy moan and wrapped her lips around it, sucking deeply. Lexa’s hips jerked against her mouth, and her normally-reserved girlfriend let out a startlingly feminine cry.

“Hhhholy— _God, Clarke!”_

That only pleased Clarke more, and she slid one, then two fingers past Lexa’s entrance, curling upward. Lexa was more than wet enough, and warm, slick walls gripped down, welcoming her every movement. She fucked Lexa with steady strokes, noting how her lover’s lashes fluttered and her breath strained when Clarke timed her thrusts with the drawing pressure of her mouth.

Lexa held her hair, looking down to see Clarke’s eyes watching her every move. “Jesus, Clarke, you’re _so_ , ahfuck, so good at this… _fuck_ , just like that, _yesss—”_

Clarke sped up, keeping the pressure going. Her own thighs were slick again, her body aching with need. Pleasing Lexa with her mouth like this was definitely going high on her list of Most Arousing Things, Ever. Maybe even number one.

“That’s it, that’s it, _that’s it—!”_ Lexa nearly screamed, her body arching like a bow. Tension vibrated down her thighs, and Clarke put her free hand on Lexa’s pelvis, soothing, while her tongue swept up the side of Lexa’s clit one final time.

Lexa let out a half-choked moan that could have been Clarke’s name. Time slowed down as her release finally hit, spilling all over Clarke’s fingers and running everywhere. She rode out the waves of Lexa’s climax, thrusting gently through it. Everything smelled like sex and musk and Lexa, and her mouth kept working, trying to coax out the last drops. She cleaned up all she could, even after Lexa slumped onto the mattress, too limp to do much else but stare appreciatively.

“You’re amazing,” she managed at last, pulling Clarke up along her body.

Clarke dropped as many kisses on Lexa’s exposed skin as she could along the way, but finally settled onto Lexa’s chest, sighing happily. “You _taste_ amazing. And sound amazing. And _are_ amazing, also.”

Lexa laughed. “C’mere.” She tugged gently at Clarke’s hair. “Kiss me.”

Clarke was surprised. No one else had ever wanted to kiss her after giving head before. But of course, Lexa was different. She allowed herself to be pulled up, and the kiss was warm and meltingly sweet. Just like Lexa. She sighed into it, letting Lexa explore every inch of her mouth.

For long moments, they lay there, trading kisses back and forth. The afternoon shifted into grey twilight, long shadows stretching across the posters and art on Clarke’s walls, but she had no desire to get up. Instead, she rested her head on Lexa’s chest and twined their fingers together, listening to Lexa’s heartbeat.

“So,” Lexa said, “when do I get to come to a campaign night?”

Clarke couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. “All right,” she sighed, rubbing her nose affectionately into Lexa’s clavicle. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I may have lied about Raven playing Call of Duty, but she still gets violent.”

Lexa hugged her closer, and kissed the top of her head. The tenderness of it was overwhelming, and Clarke closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure things could get any more perfect.

“Don’t worry,” Lexa promised. “I’ll happily take a stabbing for you.”

***

“I roll to stab her.”

“What?” Clarke sputtered, trying and failing to contain her disbelief. True, Raven occasionally made ‘odd’ choices in the interest of adding drama to the campaign’s narrative, but this was rash even for her. _“Why?”_

“She snuck up on us in a dark alleyway,” Raven said. “We don’t know her. What would you do?”

“Not stab her first and ask questions later,” Octavia said, barely stifling a chuckle.

“Stranger, dark alley,” Raven repeated, looking around the table for support. Her eyes landed on Lexa. “You get it, right?”

Lexa, who was seated at Clarke’s side, seemed mildly bewildered by how the beginning of her very first D&D session was playing out, but she shrugged and offered Raven a friendly grin. “Uh, sure. Stab me, I guess?”

“Roll for it,” Monty ordered from behind the dungeon master’s screen.

Raven rolled a d20. It clattered on the table, and after a moment of silent tension, everyone burst out laughing.

“A _natural one?”_

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Guess you don’t even need to check Lexa’s stats when you fail that hard.”

“Seriously?” Raven wailed, rolling her head back and casting her eyes imploringly toward the ceiling. _“How?”_

Monty leaned over in his chair, sharing a whispered conversation with Lexa that Clarke couldn’t quite make out. Lexa nodded, presumably in agreement, and they both smirked as Monty began his narration.

“Raven, you attempt to stab the shadowy figure, but she’s too swift. She grabs your arm, causing the dagger to fall from your hand, and judo-flips you onto the ground. Take two damage.”

“Fucking sucks,” Raven grumbled, adjusting her hit points.

“Do I hear a commotion?” Clarke asked.

Monty shrugged. “Roll perception.”

Clarke rolled. “Seventeen.”

“You hear a scuffle in the alleyway, followed by a pained grunt.”

“I rush into the alley.”

“You see a shadowy figure standing over your disarmed companion.”

Clarke glanced at Lexa, who licked her lips and said (in a surprisingly sexy voice): “So, you’re the one who burned three hundred of my warriors alive.”

“You’re the one who sent them there to kill us,” Clarke said, impressed despite herself. She had a feeling that role playing with Lexa was going to be a whole lot of fun… and maybe it didn’t have to be confined to this campaign.

**Author's Note:**

> Since tumblr is a garbage fire now, please follow me @raedmagdon on twitter instead.


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